


You Know What They Say About Trouble...

by engel82



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 11:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engel82/pseuds/engel82
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They never mean for it to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Know What They Say About Trouble...

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "How to be Lost"

They never mean for it to happen. 

They argue over putting themselves in danger, over almost dying, over surviving. They argue because _damn it, I need you, and you need me,_ and they’re a team. Their balance is fragile, breakable. They’re the blind leading the blind and the illusion is too important to disrupt. 

There’s always too much blood, too many close calls. Too many sleepless nights watching over each other, too many lies to undo the way they’ve tied their lives together. There are too many fights that leave them alone; too many escapes that leave them breathless and overtaken by the need to be alive.

They never wanted for this to happen. They never meant to find themselves tangled in each other, with their hands clasped together and lips biting and kissing and marking; never meant to be pressed together in bed or against a wall; to be hurting so much the only way they can feel better is to be together, is to overwhelm each other until they forget there’s a world outside, a world fighting against them. 

They bruise so easily in each other’s hands and they fall so easily into place. They become nothing more than Stiles and Derek, than the burn of their heart threatening to explode until they come undone. 

They’re quiet and empty in the aftermath. Overexposed and needing more of this, of the touch of their noses pressed together, of the soft chuckle that escapes their lips when nothing else exists but them. 

There’s nothing tentative about the way Derek’s hand holds onto Stiles’. There’s nothing foreign in the way Stiles’ fingers curl into Derek’s hair. It’s home and it’s safe, the way their chests rise with every breath against each other until morning comes and they part ways again.


End file.
